


I'm Scared to Open my Eyes

by musicalgirl4474



Series: Psychology terms are Great Batfamily Prompts [4]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Dick Grayson is Batman, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 14:06:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicalgirl4474/pseuds/musicalgirl4474
Summary: Peripheral Route Persuasion- Influenced by small social cues, such as a speaker’s interest.People follow leaders who believe in what they say. (Charisma?)"Gotham needed The Batman, and there were only four people in the world that had the chance of ever becoming him. Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne."





	I'm Scared to Open my Eyes

When Batman talked, the heroes listened. He knew that The Mission (keeping the world safe, keeping people alive, prevention before retribution, though retribution was easier and more clear-cut) was all-important. So to them, it became expected that The Mission was all-important. At least, to the bats.

Living with (being raised by) Batman, on top of that expectation, weighed heavily on all of the Robins. Some of them wore it better than others.

Dick Grayson had been fine with it, so in awe of the man who had taken him in and who fought crime on a nightly basis, that he wanted to become him. But as he grew up, as he matured, he realized that his emotions and relationships were too important to him. That he didn’t want to sacrifice his friends for the sake of The Mission. He could never be The Batman.

Jason Todd was always a rebellious figure. He’d been discovered attempting to jack the batmobile’s wheels, after all. He hadn’t really thought much about being The Batman while he was Robin. As far as The Mission went . . . he didn’t make friends easily. But he’d do anything to keep his family safe, Mission or no.

Tim Drake was a detective. Before he became Robin he was a detective (stalker). He had figured out Batman’s civilian identity on his own. But he never wanted to be The Batman. He was content helping Batman, being something for the hero to lean on when he needed it. But . . . he had his own reasons for doing things. And he had already lost too many people to willingly sacrifice any more.

Damian Wayne was too young. Too young by far and too willing to kill. And too new and raw and untrusted. He’d only ever been an assassin, trained not to be completely human. And The Batman had to be human before he could be The Batman.

But Gotham needed The Batman, and there were only four people in the world that had the chance of ever becoming him. Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne.

But they needed The Batman sooner than Damian would grow a few feet. So . . . logistics. 

Jason Todd was still killing people, and was likely to laugh in the face of whoever expressed the idea that he take up the cowl and The Mission and the rules. So . . . personality.

Tim Drake was still technically Robin. He would need time as a solo hero in order to build up the network and skills needed to truly become The Batman. So . . . experience.

Dick Grayson was fully grown (as much as he would ever be). He kept to The Batman’s rules and had been the one to voice the fact that The Batman could not die (The Batman was more myth than man, after all). He had been Nightwing for years and had an extensive network of superhero friends and allies (and an almost as extensive network of enemies). The problem would be sacrificing anything for The Mission. But he was undoubtedly human; the sacrificing might come with practice.

As Barbara rewatched Bruce’s last message to his family (Tim Drake had sent her a copy, bless him), she tried not to cry. There was a note in there for her. “Be strong,” he had said. “Lead my boys where they need to go.” No easy feat, considering they were as stubborn as the man who raised them (their father). But leading Dick to the cowl . . . she could do that. It would break her heart to confine that bright, expressive man to the dark confines of the cowl, but she could do it. She could do it because she had to. For The Mission. And because Bruce was convinced she could. And since her injury . . . everything she had become was The Mission, wasn’t it?

Forgive me, Dick, she thought as she opened a new program on a laptop. A costume designer. But I’m not sorry. A more flexible suit. A slightly shorter one . . . maybe some padding in the soles of the boots, make him look taller. Not sorry at all. But all the conviction in the world couldn’t stop the tear from falling on the keyboard.


End file.
